Page 49 of Gather the Storm

My dad and I had been given a chance to read victims’ statements at the sentencing (Ruth had been too young), but I hadn’t been able to get my head around it all and my dad had refused.

So until the Beasts told me they didn’t do it, until they proved they didn’t do it, they weren’t the ones deserving of sympathy in this situation.

Wolf turned his beer bottle, the condensation leaving damp streaks on the cheap Formica tabletop at Syd’s. “I’ve thought about it plenty, Daisy. Every day for five years.”

Regret was heavy in his voice.

“Then why won’t you tell me what happened?” I asked.

He took another drink of his beer. “Because it was between us and Blake. I’m sorry about what happened, sorry you andyour family suffered because of it, but if talking about it is a condition of living at the house — of helping you with the reno — then I’m out.”

And there it was. The ultimatum. Either stop talking about Blake’s murder or the Beasts — and I was under no illusion that if one went the others wouldn’t follow — would all leave.

Honey, a gorgeous blonde with curves Marilyn Monroe would have envied, came over carrying two plates so full of fries I could barely see the giant burger on one side of the plate.

“Syd gave you extra fries,” she said to Wolf. “Figured you could probably use them.”

“Thanks, Honey,” Wolf said.

She was looking appreciatively at Wolf, her gaze raking his muscular body, and I had the sudden urge to scratch out her eyes.

What the fuck was that? I’d always liked Honey. I didn’t own Wolf. I had no claim on him whatsoever. I mean, wanting to fuck the guy who’d killed my brother? That would be crazy.

Right?

“No problem, sugar.” She smiled at me. “How’ve you been, Daisy? How’s Ruth?”

“I’ve been good,” I said. “Ruth’s good too. Growing up fast. Borrowing all my clothes.”

Honey laughed. “Have fun with that.”

I retuned her smile, my earlier possessiveness fading like a blessedly brief stomach bug. “Thanks.”

She left us to eat and we dug into our burgers. I replayed the conversation with Wolf, sifting, looking for any clue about what had happened the night of Blake’s murder.

I’m sorry about what happened…

He hadn’t said he was sorry for what he’d done, just that he was sorry it had happened.

I clung to the words like a drowning person clinging to a life raft, then caught myself. Was I hoping the Beasts hadn’t killed Blake?

Because that would be bad. Like, really bad.

I wanted the truth. The real truth. Looking for it with a bunch of biases was only going to make everything more confusing.

But Wolf had made his position clear: talk about Blake’s murder and he was out, and that would mean Jace and Otis were out too.

Talking to them about it would be playing with fire.

And that meant it was time for plan B.

Chapter 25

Daisy

The tension between us gradually faded. We talked about less dangerous things — the new resort being built by Cantwell Holdings and how it would change Blackwell Falls, my semi-useless two-year marketing degree, Wolf’s mom and a guidebook to foraging in the Northeast that she was working on. By the time we finished our food and left Syd’s, everything was back to normal between us.

I didn’t want to think about how that made me feel, about the fact that I hadn’t liked arguing with Wolf, hadn’t liked the thought of him leaving.

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